


Perfect

by Everyday_Im_Narrating



Series: College Shenanigans with Lydia Martin [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Gals being pals, Gender Roles, Kinda, Makeovers, YOU KNOW JUST GIRLY THINGS, a handful of Wicked references, ah well, also kinda - Freeform, and are kind of in love with each other, but there's like two lines of smut, gotta follow the pattern, this was supposed to be smut, welp I made the two previous titles single words that begin with a P, who screw often
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 06:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9807782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyday_Im_Narrating/pseuds/Everyday_Im_Narrating
Summary: Cora wants to try something new. Lydia is more than happy to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Holy crap, this was supposed to be a little intro and then porn. It turned out a whole lot of intro and then almost no porn. What even happened.
> 
> (I freakin' love these girls and I tried to keep the clichés to a minimum.)

The good thing about having a steady friends-with-benefits deal with Cora Hale is, well, everything. But right now Lydia is mostly thankful that Cora lives in an apartment just outside of campus with her siblings. Meaning, Lydia gets to use a decent, non-public shower whenever she comes over, and after having been in a stuffy dorm for over a year now, it’s a damn relief. She doesn’t even have to wear flip-flops! She can even borrow Cora’s homemade face scrub, which, by the way, who knew?

 

It turns out there’s a lot of things she didn’t know about Cora before they got close. Like how she’s very meticulous about her health, and while she’s happy to pig out on cake and cookies occasionally, she prefers to make them at home and then work out extra hard the next day. Or how, when she’s really close to someone - Derek and Laura, sure, but also Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and now Lydia too - she’ll touch them constantly, grab their hands when she tells exciting news and pat their shoulders with a smirk on her face when they say something stupid. And, finally, how stupidly happy it makes Lydia that she’s part of this select group of people that Cora likes and trusts more than others.

 

She’s not catching feelings, okay? They’re _friends_. Ones who screw pretty often, but friends nonetheless. The fact that Cora went from “that pretty girl in the loose tank top with impressively strong arms” to “hey, can I borrow a hoodie and also sleep over” is heartwarming, sure, but in an entirely platonic way.

 

Tonight Lydia is staying over. Cora’s room is a mess - besides the books and shoes and various objects constantly scattered around every surface, their discarded clothes are another element to the chaos; Lydia’s purple skirt somehow hangs over the lamp on Cora’s nightstand. She doesn’t know how, either, but on her way to the shower, she doesn’t bother picking it up.

 

(They’re not at the “showering together after sex” point yet. Rather, there are _fun_ showers and _real_ showers, and while Lydia is more than happy to share the former, the latter is for functional purposes only, so they take turns.)

 

Lydia takes her time. Lathers up her hair with minty shampoo, just barely resists the urge to use a deep conditioner, makes deliberate use of Cora’s honey and brown sugar scrub… And, just a little too late, finds out there’s no soap. Well, fuck.

 

She’s not about to go through Cora’s stuff. Instead, she steps out and wraps herself in her towel, with the shower still on, and the breath she took to ask Cora where she keeps the soap gets caught in her throat once she opens the door.

 

Because, you see, Cora isn’t a very girly girl at all. Doesn’t wear makeup, not even mascara, always chooses functionality and comfort when picking clothes, and even when she _has_ to dress up, it’s always something like pants and a shirt with no embellishments. (Once she rocked the hell out of a pantsuit, and Lydia almost melted. Shut up, it’s no secret that Cora is gorgeous.) And right now, she’s standing in front of the mirror, still entirely naked, except for Lydia’s freaking _skirt_. Not only that - she’s admiring herself in it. Turning from side to side. Wiggling her ass to see the pleats moving (what a dork). Fucking _twirling_. Twirling! Lydia’s heart is doing a goddamn backflip, and it pounds even harder when Cora turns around and catches her staring.

 

There’s dead silence for a moment, then Cora’s eyes go narrow and her tone becomes almost accusing.

 

“Shower’s still on.”

 

“You’re out of soap.” Lydia replies immediately. “I was gonna ask where you kept it, but then-”

 

“There’s a little basket in the shelf under the sink.”

 

“And the…?” She gestures toward the skirt, to which Cora’s angry frown intensifies.

 

“Shelf under the sink, Lydia.”

 

It gets awkward. They don’t talk when Lydia comes out of the shower again, this time because she’s actually done. Cora practically runs into the bathroom as soon as she can, and by the time she comes out - already in her plain grey pajamas, all loose and comfortable - Lydia is in the living room with Derek, both of them quiet. (He’s always immersed in a task and almost never talks. Today the task is a book with a big violin on the cover; she wants to ask, but he’s really in the moment, so she leaves him to it.) The sight of Cora makes her heart start pounding again, and damn it, she’s not looking at Lydia.

 

Lydia can’t help but feel like she walked in on something extremely private, and now something between them snapped. She has this habit of always being prepared for things to break.

 

She only lets out her breath when Cora sits right next to her, still quiet but soft and warm as she rests her face on Lydia’s shoulder. It’s okay, they’re okay. She shouldn’t be this relieved.

 

“Sorry about earlier.” She mutters. She’s not exactly sure what she’s apologizing for, but it feels necessary; Cora groans.

 

“Shut it.” The words are harsh, but the tone is affectionate. “I’m not mad, just really, really embarrassed.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I was twirling around in your skirt like a five-year-old playing dress-up.”

 

Lydia has the option of not being an ass about this, but she chooses against it, because _come on_.

 

“Did you wanna look like a princess?”

 

She smirks and wiggles her eyebrows, to which Cora rolls her eyes, doesn’t so much as hint at a smile. It’s not the reaction Lydia was hoping for, so she wraps an arm around the girl’s shoulders and softens her voice to make up for the joke.

 

“I didn’t know you liked this kind of stuff.”

 

“What kind of stuff?”

 

“Well, skirts, for one.”

 

Cora sighs.

 

“I don’t _dis_ like it. Skirts, heels, makeup, whatever. It looks good on a lot of people, I just never had the patience for it.” She shrugs. “Spent a depressing amount of time when I was a teenager looking down on girly girls and thinking I was hot shit because I dressed like a boy.”

 

“You don’t dress like a boy.” Lydia points out.

 

“Not now, but I used to. It’s the whole tomboys versus cheerleaders kind of middle school crap that you learn from the movies and then internalize without even knowing it.”

 

Having been on the other side of that exact situation, Lydia knows just how much it sucks and how many great friendships she probably missed out on.

 

“So what made you wanna…?”

 

Cora shrugs again.

 

“I don’t know. I guess… Okay, if you hold this one over my head later, I swear I’ll punch you. But you look so good in it, and like - you, Allison, and Kira manage to look ridiculously badass in those frilly ass skirts, so I got curious and thought maybe I could pull it off too.”

 

Okay, maybe Lydia is catching feelings a little bit, because her heart absolutely melts. And then she’s kissing Cora right there in the middle of her living room, and Derek even puts down his book to raise a judgemental eyebrow at them, which Cora addresses by grabbing a pillow off the other end of the couch and throwing it at his face. They laugh together, all three of them; the moment is wonderfully light.

 

“Why didn’t you want me to know?” She asks after they’ve settled down.

 

“Well, I didn’t want you to go all Glinda on me.”

 

“Glinda?”

 

“Yeah, from Wicked. You know? _‘When someone needs a makeover, I simply have to take over…’_ ”

 

This time, Lydia really does burst out laughing; Cora joins in.

 

“I’m not gonna try to teach you to be popular.”

 

“You promise? 'Cause I can see the mischief right there. You’re planning stuff.”

 

“I plan on helping you figure out if you like this kind of thing. That’s it.”

 

Cora takes a moment to think, which Lydia shows respect to by staying very, very quiet. She thinks it’ll just be one moment, but the silence lingers, and she doesn’t push it - what she does is reach for the remote and turn the TV on, letting the background noise fill the air and the dumb little sitcom fill her head. The part that isn’t already occupied by the very intriguing idea of Cora Hale in a pretty dress, at least.

 

* * *

 

They talk again before bed, a lot, but they don’t come back to the topic. Not that night, not the next morning, not until Lydia is trying to stay awake through her awfully boring last class of the day, and failing miserably. The buzz of her phone startles her awake.

 

**C: I have rules.**

 

It’s enough to bring a little smile to Lydia’s face.

 

**L: Yes, your Highness? Or should I say Elphaba?**

 

**C: You SUCK.**

 

She stifles a giggle. (Cora has her _giggling_. It’s not fair.)

 

**L: Talk.**

 

**C: We can go shopping, but I have full veto power. I’m not gonna wear anything sheer, or heels, or baby pink. Makeup is okay and I wanna learn a little, but I draw the line at eyelash curlers, and don’t even think about fake lashes.**

 

**L: You do realize we don’t have to do any of this if you don’t want to.**

 

**C: I just need you to understand that this isn’t a makeover. I’m not ditcing my own clothes anytime soon, or wearing makeup to class, or curling my hair every day. It’s not gonna happen. I’m just trying something new to see if I like it, alright? Don’t start expecting anything.**

 

**L: Again. I don’t. I’m trying to help you out with this because you said YOU wanted it. And if you change your mind, that’s totally fine.**

 

**C: I’m gonna hold you to that.**

 

There’s a lot that Lydia wants to say right now. She struggles to find the words, ends up erasing and re-typing the message several times before pressing send.

 

**L: I’m not gonna like you more in girly clothes than I do in anything else, if that’s what you’re worried about.**

 

No answer.

 

For the rest of the day, Lydia starts to feel more and more like an idiot. What was she thinking? She just went and implied that maybe one of Cora’s priorities is how much Lydia likes her. Which is stupid. Why’d she even suggest that? (Maybe because it’s starting to become one of _Lydia’s_ priorities as well, but, hey, to each their own.) Of course this isn’t what Cora was worried about. Maybe she just thinks people will take her less seriously as a lesbian if she starts wearing more feminine things. Or maybe it’s nothing and Cora is just reluctant to try something new. Nothing dramatic, nothing like being worried about whether Lydia will like her more. Damn it, Martin.

 

She wonders if she should send another message. Maybe a 'nevermind’, or a 'hah, just kidding’, or a meme to distract from the ridiculousness of what she sent earlier. She doesn’t, though. Less is more. Cora will talk to her at some point. She’s _not_ distracted all afternoon and evening because of this, nope.

 

The next day, on the one class they have together, Lydia is fine. She’s fine. Calm and composed like she always is, because embarrassing herself in a text message isn’t enough to fluster her, no sir. She sits next to Cora like she does every Wednesday morning, says hello with a smile like she does whenever they see each other, maybe sits a little more stiffly on her chair. Cora doesn’t comment on it, but a few minutes into the lecture there’s a warm hand on Lydia’s shoulder, and she finds herself relaxing into it easier than she’d expected.

 

“So Malia’s birthday is coming up.” Cora’s tone is nothing but casual. “This Saturday, actually.”

 

Lydia stops taking notes for a moment. She can borrow them from someone else later.

 

“I know.”

 

“Did you get her anything yet?”

 

“Not yet. I was thinking about going to the mall today to pick something up.”

 

She did, actually, buy Malia a nice, sturdy pair of combat boots last weekend. Maybe she’ll exhcange them at the store for something for herself later, when Cora isn’t around. Shut up, it’s a totally rational thing to do and she’s had her eye on these cute little blue heels for a while.

 

“Can we go together? Maybe stop by some… Other stores as well?”

 

It’s the first time Cora actually makes eye contact with her today, and the smile they share is tiny and private, but it makes Lydia want to do stupid things like steal a kiss from this girl right in the middle of class. She doesn’t, but it’s a close call.

 

* * *

 

They go shopping that afternoon. It’s an _experience_.

 

Cora starts out so reluctant, Lydia has to ask her twice if she really wants anything at all. There’s always a reason not to try this or that, a gravitational pull towards the gym section, and a pair of boring jeans or a plain, loose t-shirt that seems more attractive than the more frilly stuff. But then something magical happens: an Adidas dress.

 

A remarkably, _remarkably_ cute Adidas dress, all black with just the white logo on the chest. It looks great on Cora, it comes from her comfort zone, and from that point on, she’s a lot more willing to branch out. Gradually, they find things in hidden corners of stores, and the amount of items they carry into the changing rooms is truly excessive; watching Cora try everything on makes Lydia happier than it probably should.

 

(There’s more twirling. She cannot handle the twirling.)

 

In the end they don’t leave the mall with a lot. The Adidas dress and two others, two skirts, and a couple of blouses; not a big loot - definitely not compared to when Lydia goes shopping with Allison, at least. Cora is very obviously excited; when they get to Lydia and Allison’s dorm, the first thing they do is drop the bags in a corner, and the second is make out for a blissfully long time, horizontal on the bed. By the time she leaves, Lydia’s mouth is a little numb, in the best possible way.

 

* * *

 

On Saturday, they’re all getting ready for Malia’s birthday together. Lydia, Cora, Allison, and Kira. In a world (and a campus) that constantly condemns the way every girl dresses and behaves, being together and helping each other look pretty - their own version of pretty, not each other’s or anyone else’s - is a truly cleansing experience.

 

Allison is sitting on her bed, in skinny jeans and her bra, the flat iron hissing every now and then as she tames each strand of her hair. Kira, already dressed, is standing in front of the mirror trying to apply eyeshadow; she, too, is pretty new at this whole makeup deal, so Allison has been helping her figure it out. Lydia has just finished getting completely ready, just in time for Cora to come out of the bathroom in a white skirt and lavender blouse, looking entirely different from her usual and adorably nervous. (Also hot. Hot would be a good way to describe her. There’s something about exposed shoulders and collarbones that just really does it for Lydia.)

 

Both Kira and Allison look up from what they were doing to get a good look at Cora, and for a moment Lydia worries that they might make her feel uncomfortable, but they don’t. They smile approvingly at her; Allison tells her she looks beautiful, Kira comments that she loves the skirt, and then they go right back to their previous tasks. Lydia breathes out a sigh of relief.

 

“What do you say?” Cora asks as she sits on the bed, back turned to Lydia so she can curl her hair. It’s a difficult thing on the first few tries, and Cora didn’t want to risk looking weird tonight, so Lydia gladly offered to take over. “You’re the only one who’s suspiciously quiet so far.”

 

“I didn’t want these two to make fun of me if I said you look really, really hot.”

 

From what little she can see of Cora’s face, she’s blushing. So fucking cute.

 

“Get married already.” Allison mutters, dimples showing as she grins. “I’m not kidding, don’t look at me like that.”

 

“Right. How are things going with Isaac again?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Right back at you.”

 

Cora doesn’t seem to mind the banter, even though both her and Lydia’s cheeks have turned hot pink. In fact, she’s mostly quiet while Lydia makes a ritual out of doing her hair - curl a strand around the wand, hold it, release. Curl, hold, release. Lydia gets a little lost in it; when she’s done, she runs her fingers carefully through the still-warm locks to loosen the curls, and notices the girl’s eyes are closed.

 

“You okay?”

 

“Feels nice.”

 

Lydia should pull back, or laugh it off, but she doesn’t. The moment feels more intimate than it should with two other people in the room; she doesn’t even realize how much her voice has softened until she hears herself speaking, hand lingering in Cora’s hair.

 

“You wanna do a little makeup, or just stop here?”

 

Cora takes a second to respond.

 

“Hook me up with that pretty lipstick you showed me.”

 

“Kay.”

 

And she doesn’t simply pull away. Oh no. Before she knows it, she’s - yep, she’s _kissing Cora on the top of the head_.

 

Damn it.

 

Okay. Focus. Forget it ever happened. Lipstick time. She reaches into her makeup bag - oh, it’s awkward, _it’s awkward_ \- and hands Cora the lipstick, then fumbles through her purse just for something to do. It doesn’t hold much, just cash, her ID, her phone, and some gum, but it provides enough distraction that when she looks back up, Allison is fully dressed, Kira is grabbing her own purse, and Cora - well, she’s still sitting on the bed, looking around the room like there’s something fascinating on the walls.

 

Allison and Kira leave; Cora tells them she and Lydia will follow in about ten minutes. Lydia doesn’t know what’s going to happen in these ten minutes, but it’s making her skin crawl. Cora’s about to end this thing they have going on, she can feel it. It’s not a relationship, so it wouldn’t need an official breakup, but damn if it’s not going to hurt just like one.

 

As soon as the door closes, she looks right into Cora's eyes. If this is about to happen, she's facing it like a big girl.

 

"So, let me see if I get this straight." She can't decipher Cora's tone. Damn it. "You slip me the tongue in front of my big brother with no hesitation, then you kiss my face in front of Kira and Allison and all of a sudden you're hiding in your purse like an ostrich."

 

She's going to die of embarrassment.

 

"That's more of a - y'know. An intimate thing. A thing people in relationships do."

 

"I suppose it is."

 

The silence is heavy and Lydia is already starting to feel her chest sink. Cora is the one who breaks it; she sounds... Insecure? Upset? Something.

 

"Is that what you want? A relationship?" Her eyes drift to somewhere around Lydia's knees. "Because we agreed on a different arrangement."

 

  
_We agreed_ sounds a lot like a no.

 

"I don't know." She admits. "It's been really nice so far. And we - we do kind of couple-y things sometimes."

 

"Like when we kind of cuddled on my couch the other day."

 

"Yeah."

 

Lydia braces internally for the _'look, you misinterpreted me_ ' conversation. Or maybe the _'I think we should stop doing this'_. What she gets instead is a very gentle hand resting on top of hers.

 

"It'd be nice to do more of that stuff."

 

Wait, what?

 

"Wait, what?" Because did she really hear it right? "You wanna do relationship-type stuff with me?"

 

"How about we just talk like normal people? I wanna date you. Possibly be your girlfriend sometime soon, but we'll see how dating goes."

 

And before Lydia can even react, Cora is closing the distance between them with a kiss, and oh, it's absolutely perfect. Her heart hasn't slowed down yet, but now it's fluttering for a whole different reason; she wants - she wants to go to places and introduce Cora as her girlfriend, to hold hands in public, to give each other stupid cheesy Valentine's Day gifts. She's so fucking gone on this girl, it's not even funny.

 

She doesn't tell Cora, though. This is enough exposition for one day. Instead she breaks the kiss only when they're out of breath, keeps their foreheads pressed together, and smiles.

 

"Sounds cool." She aims for casual. _Aims._ "Could've told me before."

 

"I wanted to see if you were gonna make good on the whole Glinda thing."

 

"What, you thought I was gonna force you into heels and fake lashes?"

 

"No." Cora chuckles, stealing a kiss instead of pausing for a breath. "But I thought you might make me feel weird about it. You didn't, you were really cool and respectful and stuff. And that's as much talking about feelings as I can handle right now, so can we just...?"

 

They kiss again. It's slow, it's wonderful, she can't get enough of it. When they pull back, Lydia glances at her phone to check the time - it's been eight minutes since Allison and Kira left.

 

"We should go."

 

"We should."

 

They don't move. Somehow, Lydia's not sure how, Cora ends up on her lap.

 

"We really, really should. Everyone's expecting us."

 

"Yeah, totally."

 

It's hard to think about getting up and going to see people when she's this happy. Especially now that Cora's mouth is on her neck, trailing soft little kisses up and down.

 

"Cora..."

 

"Tell you what." Cora grabs her hand, sets it high on her thigh, right where white fabric meets tan skin. "We're going now. We're gonna walk into Malia's place holding hands, 'cause that's what we do now. And then, at some point during this party..." Lydia's hand slides further up, she can't help it. Well, she could. She just doesn't want to. "... I'm gonna drag your ass into the bathroom, and you're gonna show me another advantage of wearing a skirt. Hm?"

 

Lydia nods, thumb slipping under the cotton of Cora's panties, tracing over her lips lightly. Their eyes lock almost stubbornly; Cora gives her a wicked grin.

 

"Sounds like a plan."

 

She keeps her touch light and teasing, barely there as her thumb slips between the folds to just brush over Cora's clit. It's not enough to get them anywhere except breathy and hot; as soon as the two minutes are up, Lydia pulls her hand out from under that pretty skirt and gives the girl a quick, sweet little peck on the lips.

 

"Shall we?"

**Author's Note:**

> I swear this felt five times longer when I was writing it. Jeez. Please let me know what you think, 'cause I have no idea.


End file.
